even a Captain. She was desperate, and she hoped
that he would give her what she wanted. And Velmeran felt guilty, since there
was little he could do to help her.
“Treck is back in town,” someone behind him said suddenly.
Velmeran had no idea what that could mean, but Lenna obviously did. Her
eyes widened and her face turned from lightly tan to chalky white. Whatever
else it might mean, it was obviously a threat and intended as one.
“So what’s that to me?” Lenna demanded.
A pair of rangers, fresh from the highlands, appeared from behind Velmeran
to stand at either side of the table. They were young and a matched pair of
second-rate bullies, the one to his left short, stocky, and stupid, while the
other, the speaker, was tall and lean. They were ragged, dirty, and fairly
rank. Kelvessan had no sense of smell, but he could guess that part. But
they must have something of a reputation, judging by the way the rest of the
patrons were slowly retreating.
“You know the answer to that,” the tall one said, sneering.
“Treck Lesries has put his name on you, and he doesn’t like for his
girls to run around on him.”
“I’m not afraid of Treck Lesries,” Lenna declared.
“No, I’m sure you’re not. It’s your little friend
here who’ll get his neck broke,” the tall one said, his threat now
aimed at Velmeran. He put a hand on the Starwolf’s shoulder and did his
best to knead the muscle painfully.
Velmeran reached up and took hold of the offending wrist, applying pressure
until both bones snapped loudly. The tall ranger gasped in pain and sank to his
knees, for Velmeran did not let go. “If you are Treck Lesries’s
messenger, then you can take him this message. Tell him to get out of
town.”
“Lesries can take care of you!” the ranger threatened, his voice
sharp with pain. “He’s half Starwolf, you know.”
Velmeran laughed aloud. “Do not be a complete idiot! No one can be
half Starwolf.”
“He’ll show you what he can do!” the other squealed.
Velmeran laughed again. “I have enemies that make your Treck Lesries
seem like a child. Now go.”
He squeezed the wrist until the ranger screamed in agony, then gave him a
shove. The stocky ranger caught him, taking him under the arms to half carry
his friend, nearly faint with pain, toward the door. Velmeran watched them until
they were gone, then saw that Lenna was staring at him.
“Do not be afraid of me,” he said. “I might not hesitate
to use violence, but only against those who ask for it.”
“You broke his damned wrist,” Lenna muttered in open awe.
“You took hold of it and it snapped. Sergei, you’ve got to get out
of here. Treck won’t take it well, not at all. He’ll kill you when
he finds you.”
“Would you explain what this is all about?” Velmeran said
firmly. “Why is a murderer like Treck Lesries and his misfits allowed to
walk around free?”
“Oh, Lesries is a Unioner,” she explained.
“Commando-trained in their military, trained to kill. Union supposedly
gave him permission to settle here, but he’s still Union. On detached
duty, as we see it, here to stir up all the trouble he can. Our treaty says
that we can’t touch him, and every time we file a complaint they say we
have no evidence. Him and his lackeys earn their bread and beer by poaching;
they sell langie pelts on the black market. Several times a year we find a ranger
dead, his neck broken, and nothing left of his herd but skinned carcasses.
That’s his trick. He breaks your neck with one swift kick. He’s
done that to about five of our boys here in town.”
Velmeran frowned. “What is this business about your being his girl?
You seem to think otherwise.”
Lenna nearly spat in anger. “He thinks he’s a stud! He names
certain girls to be his own, and if anyone goes near them he breaks their neck.
He’s not touched me yet, but he will come for me eventually. What happens
then, I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
She frowned
that he would give her what she wanted. And Velmeran felt guilty, since there
was little he could do to help her.
“Treck is back in town,” someone behind him said suddenly.
Velmeran had no idea what that could mean, but Lenna obviously did. Her
eyes widened and her face turned from lightly tan to chalky white. Whatever
else it might mean, it was obviously a threat and intended as one.
“So what’s that to me?” Lenna demanded.
A pair of rangers, fresh from the highlands, appeared from behind Velmeran
to stand at either side of the table. They were young and a matched pair of
second-rate bullies, the one to his left short, stocky, and stupid, while the
other, the speaker, was tall and lean. They were ragged, dirty, and fairly
rank. Kelvessan had no sense of smell, but he could guess that part. But
they must have something of a reputation, judging by the way the rest of the
patrons were slowly retreating.
“You know the answer to that,” the tall one said, sneering.
“Treck Lesries has put his name on you, and he doesn’t like for his
girls to run around on him.”
“I’m not afraid of Treck Lesries,” Lenna declared.
“No, I’m sure you’re not. It’s your little friend
here who’ll get his neck broke,” the tall one said, his threat now
aimed at Velmeran. He put a hand on the Starwolf’s shoulder and did his
best to knead the muscle painfully.
Velmeran reached up and took hold of the offending wrist, applying pressure
until both bones snapped loudly. The tall ranger gasped in pain and sank to his
knees, for Velmeran did not let go. “If you are Treck Lesries’s
messenger, then you can take him this message. Tell him to get out of
town.”
“Lesries can take care of you!” the ranger threatened, his voice
sharp with pain. “He’s half Starwolf, you know.”
Velmeran laughed aloud. “Do not be a complete idiot! No one can be
half Starwolf.”
“He’ll show you what he can do!” the other squealed.
Velmeran laughed again. “I have enemies that make your Treck Lesries
seem like a child. Now go.”
He squeezed the wrist until the ranger screamed in agony, then gave him a
shove. The stocky ranger caught him, taking him under the arms to half carry
his friend, nearly faint with pain, toward the door. Velmeran watched them until
they were gone, then saw that Lenna was staring at him.
“Do not be afraid of me,” he said. “I might not hesitate
to use violence, but only against those who ask for it.”
“You broke his damned wrist,” Lenna muttered in open awe.
“You took hold of it and it snapped. Sergei, you’ve got to get out
of here. Treck won’t take it well, not at all. He’ll kill you when
he finds you.”
“Would you explain what this is all about?” Velmeran said
firmly. “Why is a murderer like Treck Lesries and his misfits allowed to
walk around free?”
“Oh, Lesries is a Unioner,” she explained.
“Commando-trained in their military, trained to kill. Union supposedly
gave him permission to settle here, but he’s still Union. On detached
duty, as we see it, here to stir up all the trouble he can. Our treaty says
that we can’t touch him, and every time we file a complaint they say we
have no evidence. Him and his lackeys earn their bread and beer by poaching;
they sell langie pelts on the black market. Several times a year we find a ranger
dead, his neck broken, and nothing left of his herd but skinned carcasses.
That’s his trick. He breaks your neck with one swift kick. He’s
done that to about five of our boys here in town.”
Velmeran frowned. “What is this business about your being his girl?
You seem to think otherwise.”
Lenna nearly spat in anger. “He thinks he’s a stud! He names
certain girls to be his own, and if anyone goes near them he breaks their neck.
He’s not touched me yet, but he will come for me eventually. What happens
then, I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
She frowned
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